


The Black fair blond

by julestales



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bitter, Bitter but not too dark, F/M, First Time, James is fascinated, James is sixteen, Marauders Friendship, Mention of torture, Pure Blood Traditions, Sirius swears a lot but is a great friend, Smut, behind malfoy's statue, could fit into canon, filthy smut, naughty Narcissa, not a dark ending, seriously slytherin Narcissa, the education of James Potter, weird infatuation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25571605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julestales/pseuds/julestales
Summary: It doesn’t make any sense for James Potter to be attracted to her in his exuberant and privileged life.She comes into his dreams, his brains conjuring images and sounds he can’t forget, images and sounds James can only fully enjoy in the privacy of his silenced four poster bed.She is the complete opposite of Lily Evans.She is ice whereas Evans is fire.And maybe that’s just it. Contrast.They’re both at different unattainable ends of the spectrum.James gets educated on a few pure blood traditions.
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/James Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	The Black fair blond

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this smutty (filthy) one shot!  
> Just to be clear: James is sixteen in this story, Narcissa eighteen (I had to make her a few years younger to still be at Hogwarts).  
> Read the tags people, I hope it's all there!
> 
> Thanks to JacqP who beta'd this story :D
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. All the charactersin this fanfiction are created and owned by J.K. Rowling, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of Harry Potter. The story I tell here my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of J.K. Rowling's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line. I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story.

There’s something about her that a sixteen year old James Potter can’t really put into words.

She walks through the castle as if it’s not worthy of her refined silky robes, her nose scrunched up in distaste as the younger students cross her path. Her cold grey eyes look down at them, from her statuesque height.

She represents everything James despises about purebloods and yet, he’s inexplicably fascinated by her. 

She’s slender and graceful and moves with her chin held high, in an unnatural way that only the strictest of pureblood education can enforce into someone.

It doesn’t make any sense for James Potter to be attracted to _her_ in his exuberant and privileged life.

Overtly talented and confident, James is used to having the best of everything. He’s in the best House, has the best Quidditch team, the best friends anyone could ever hope for, the best parents, and he’s the best in classes whenever he wants to. Everything comes easy to him, he can do nothing wrong.

So, in the midst of this remarkably outstanding youth, James Potter’s attraction for Narcissa Black stands out as an illogical incongruity.

She’s nothing like most girls, the ones he collects for fun. Narcissa Black is more beautiful than any of them.

She’s nothing like the wonderful redhead James likes to think he’ll end up marrying someday. Narcissa Black is more terrifying and cold than Lily Evans could ever be.

James can’t explain his attraction and yet he knows he needs to be discreet about it. It’s not his biggest secret because he shares plenty with his fellow marauders, and James is like an open book to them. They share everything, as teenagers often do. From their greatest fears and hope, to their most private desires. A familiarity born from sharing a dorm since day one and the birth of the greatest friendship of all time. 

But _that_ secret, James doesn’t share with anyone. Not even with Sirius. 

_Especially_ not with Sirius.

He’s never kept anything from Sirius before and the thought alone is strange. But there is something wickedly illicit about James’ fascination for Narcissa Black. Which, of course, only makes it more delectable.

She comes into his dreams, his brains conjuring images and sounds he can’t forget, images and sounds James can only fully enjoy in the privacy of his silenced four poster bed.

She can’t decrown Lily Evans of course, who remains the main character on the stage of his night dreams and daydreams. But whereas his dreams about Evans usually feature Lily looking at him with admiration and fondness in her eyes while they make love, the ones featuring Narcissa are full of dirty talk and the filthiest sex.

Narcissa Black is the complete opposite of Lily Evans.

She’s a haughty Slytherin pureblood whereas Evans is a (mostly) kind Gryffindor muggleborn. She is ice whereas Evans is fire. Narcissa represents hate whereas Lily represents love.

And maybe that’s just it. _Contrast_. 

They’re both at different unattainable ends of the spectrum. 

Lily Evans rejects him, in a way that hurts his pride and only makes him more attracted to her. Narcissa Black is unapproachable and forbidden, in a way that makes his brain conjure the filthiest scenarios.

Maybe James Potter is a spoiled brat too used to having whatever he craves. Maybe he’s just an ordinary randy teenager. Or maybe it’s just life’s sweet revenge on him, for having it generally too easy.

James knows he’s lucky. He knows life isn’t sweet to everyone. 

He’s learned that the hard way at eleven years old, when Sirius came back from his Christmas holidays with bruises everywhere; at twelve years old, when he figured out the reason for Remus’ regular absences; at thirteen years old, when Peter was called home to say his goodbyes to his dying father.

No one is as lucky as James Potter and he is immensely grateful for how life has treated him so far. So, being attracted to women who wouldn’t even give him the time of the day seems like a small price to pay.

But everything in James’ life has led him to believe he can achieve anything: make the Quidditch team in second year, unravel the mysteries of Hogwarts’ castle, break the rules and get away with it with a simple and well-practised charming smile, become an animagus at the age of fifteen and wander the forbidden forest with a werewolf.

He knows the best things in life require patience and sometimes work. He’ll never give up on Lily Evans. Her latest rejection this morning still stings but does not change anything.

But when it comes to Narcissa Black, James doesn’t know what to make of his attraction.

The fair blond of the Black line…

She’s one of the most beautiful and intimidating women James has ever laid eyes on. Tall and slender, with narrow shoulders and a very defined waist, she exudes some kind of dark glamour that James is far from immune to. She’s the picture of refined and dominant femininity.

She’s as unapproachable as anyone could ever be. They’ve never said a word to each other and James doubts they’d have anything to talk about. 

He’s pretty sure he’d not like her at all, he’s heard too many stories about her family from Sirius. He knows Narcissa was a quiet child Sirius used to play with, that submitted obediently to the rules of her family. She wasn’t as outspoken as her sister in her cooperation but never tried to rebel like her other sister or her cousin either. Andromeda has all but vanished since eloping with a muggleborn. Bellatrix married a Lestrange and even if James has never met her, the way Sirius gets livid when he talks about her is proof enough of their enmity.

But the fact that Narcissa only talks to purebloods is enough for her to earn James’ contempt. She belongs to the worst kind of pure bloods, the ones who were taught they are superior by blood and birthright and never questioned it. There’s nothing attractive about who she is, what she stands for, it’s everything James has been taught to avoid and has learned to despise.

And yet, somehow _because_ of all that, she personifies James' rebellious streak perfectly, his penchant for breaking the rules, his attraction for what is forbidden or out of reach. 

And what’s life without a little risk? 

But James never really plans to act on it. He’s content to simply indulge his little obsession by secretly watching her whenever possible and wank hard and fast when she creeps up into his dreams. There is nothing more to it, there could never be. They have nothing in common except the purity of their blood. Which means they have nothing at all. 

She’s two years older than he is and very much of a woman already, in more than just curves. James knows from Sirius’ spiteful declaration a few weeks ago, that she’s already engaged to Lucius Malfoy. Within a couple of weeks she’ll graduate and then be shipped to Malfoy Manor and begin producing perfect little pureblood blond heirs.

The idea is nauseating, but there is comfort in knowing that the object of his odd obsession will soon be gone for good.

Sirius has not been quiet on the matter, he hates all of his family but James can’t help but think his best friend secretly hopes one of them will turn their back against blood purity fanaticism eventually. But by the look of it, it won’t be Narcissa Black. Her engagement to Malfoy is another blow to Sirius.

In the meantime, James can’t help his eyes from discreetly straying to her whenever she’s around, (which isn’t often at all actually). The shape of her hips, her bum... The outline of her small breasts under her dress... The delicate ring-covered fingers sending long icy-blond hair flying over her shoulders... The constant haughty sneer on her face…

She’s like a mystery to him, one he can’t unravel.

He caught her truly smiling only once and was shocked to see the way her features transformed when sporting a genuine smile. It was mesmerizing. James had felt like he’d been privy to something intimate, forbidden.

What could bring a smile to such a creature? His fascination for her only grew after that.

But James has plenty on his mind. Between the full moons, Quidditch, wooing Lily Evans, OWLs, snogging pretty girls in dark cupboards and the organization of general mayhem, he doesn’t dwell on Narcissa Black too much. Apart from the times she creeps up naked and willing in his dreams, he doesn’t think about her at all.

Tonight, as James patrols the corridor, Narcissa Black is the last thing on his mind. He’s thinking about Evans and the look of disgust on her face when he asked her out today. He’s thinking about Moony and his latest injuries. The previous moon has not been easy on him, despite the presence of his animagus friends. He’s so tired and sore that James offers to cover his prefect duties for him.

There isn’t much to do, to be honest. James knows the castle like his pocket and it doesn’t take long before the corridors are empty and silent. He’s shepherding a couple of second year Slytherins down in the dungeons, towards their common room when he sees something that makes him stop and retreat behind the statue of Armand Malfoy.

Narcissa Black is walking down the other end of the corridor towards the Slytherin common room entrance, looking deep in conversation with the Slytherin sixth year’s prefect.

James waits, watching the scene from his hiding spot. The two second years exchange a few words with Narcissa and enter their common room followed by the prefect, leaving Narcissa alone.

James can’t help but bend awkwardly around the statue to keep her in sight. He watches as she takes her wand out and then suddenly she’s striding fast towards him, looking like she’s got a solid goal in mind.

Fuck. James feels cornered and childish as she looks at him with the air of someone about to hex first and ask questions later. 

It’s too late to retreat further behind the statue, and James feels stupid for not bringing his invisibility cloak with him. His heart is hammering in his chest and he grabs his wand in his pocket, watching her getting closer.

He’s not afraid of her but he usually avoids being found lurking around the dungeons by Slytherins. But the reason his heart is hammering is not fear but because of the sensual way her hips move, mesmerizing and hypnotising, as she approaches.

When she reaches him, her wand is steady in her hand.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, her tone full of spite.

James can’t help but feel his brain go fuzzy. He’s never actually heard her voice before, not quite like that.

“Uhm. Prefect’s round,” he says, his hand flying to his hair.

“You’re not a prefect,” she says icily.

“Well, no. But I’m covering for a friend of mine, he’s sick you see-”

“What’s your name?” she interrupts coldly, not lowering her wand.

James is a bit hurt in his pride at her question. _Everybody_ knows his name.

He looks into her eyes and although he’s a bit disgruntled, he can’t help but notice that her eyes are not actually grey. They are a lighter grey than Sirius’ but with deep blue specks. It’s like a sea of ice. But the hatred in them soon brings him back to his senses.

“James Potter.”

“James Potter?” she repeats, her sneer deepening.

A fresh scent of minerals and citrus with a hint of rose reaches James’ nose. His eyes fall to her lips as she says his name and he realises he’s never seen her up close like that before. She’s even more fascinating from up close…

Her upper lip is a bit larger than the lower one, provocatively so. She’s got one of those slightly upturned noses, the pretty thin ones. Her cheekbones are high and very aristocratic, her brows fair and perfectly structured. 

Her skin is incredibly fair and flawless, contrasting with the dark makeup underlining her almond shaped eyes. She’s hypnotizing.

“Are you afraid of me, Potter?” she asks.

James clears his throat, aware he hasn’t made eye contact with her since he gave her his name, too focused on discovering the fine traits of her face.

“No.”

One of her fair eyebrows goes up and then she’s looking him up and down like she’s appraising him.

“Do you know who I am?” she asks.

“Narcissa Black,” he answers, loving the way her name rolls on his tongue.

Her lips stretch in a tight smile that borders on satisfied.

“You look at me a lot, Potter,” she states, “I’ve seen you doing it and you’re doing it now.”

James’ eyes snap back to hers, feeling heat growing in his cheeks. He’s usually confident and coy with girls, but this is no girl, this is a woman. A cold, dangerous and gorgeous woman.

“Why are you always looking at me?” she asks in a dangerous tone, her wand pointing at his heart.

James takes a long breath in, he’s a bloody Gryffindor and now is the time to prove it.

“Well, because I think you’re beautiful,” he says, staring right in her eyes and daring the well-practised cocky grin that has worked so many times before.

Narcissa snorts lightly, her upturned nose cuter than ever. But her gaze on him changes then, the contempt is fading and some new quality grows in them, could it be a tad bit of interest? 

“How old are you, James Potter?” she finally asks.

“Sixteen,” says James, squaring his shoulder. She’s still a bit taller than he is, but not by much.

Narcissa appraises him and James can’t read the look in her eyes but her stare makes him feel weirdly naked. Suddenly, she’s lowering her wand and gesturing him further behind the statue where James knows is a small alcove well secluded from spying eyes. He obeys her silent command without thinking, his heart hammering in his chest. Is she going to hex him and leave him trapped in there? 

His fingers close around his wand tightly but his eyes never leave hers and even if he’s a bit worried, he can’t help but love the idea of being pushed behind a statue by Narcissa Black. His body reacts to their proximity in inappropriate ways. For a mad second James imagines being hexed, petrified and trapped there all night, a big bulge under his robes and fights a strange desire to laugh.

James is a good duelist but for some reason he’s not sure he wants to be the first one to draw his wand. Call it old fashioned chivalry but James never attacks girls, he’d rather take a good hex than draw his wand on Narcissa.

When James’ back hits the wall in the semi darkness of the alcove, Narcissa stops, just short of touching him. James stays uncharastically silent, waiting for her to say something or maybe just hex him, he’s suspended in this moment.

But Narcissa slides her wand in her pocket and looks him up and down again before slowly taking his hand. Her skin is surprisingly warm and very soft and James feels stupid for expecting it to be cold in the first place.

“You like to watch me, Potter” she says in a low voice, “would you like to touch me?” she asks, her whisper sending shivers down James’ spine.

His eyes go wide and heat spreads through his body. Of all the things he expected, this was the last one on the list. It might still be a trick but James reckons he won’t be able to say no to anything Narcissa might or might not be offering.

He looks into her eyes.

“Yeah…” he breathes out, watching her smirk grow.

Her eyes alight with something new, it’s naughty and pretty intimidating, James feels very much like the prey animal he is right now. She guides his hand towards her chest, making it brush her breasts lightly.

James lets out a long exhale and Narcissa watches him closely, a satisfied smirk on her face before she moves forward, pressing her breasts into his palm.

“Fuck…” curses James lowly.

He can feel the outline and softness of her breasts under his fingers and with a last glance at her cold, cold eyes, he closes his hand around her right breast, squeezing it tight and feeling his cock fill with blood.

He’s groped plenty of girls before but this is nothing like that. Because this is Narcissa Black, the forbidden, older, mesmerizing Slytherin. It’s illicit and so fucking hot.

His thumb grazes her nipple through the fabric of her robes and James lets out another long exhale. If this is a trap he’s falling into it with both feet. A hex in the face seems like a small price to pay to be groping Narcissa Black.

But before James can do anything other than try to imagine how the softness of her breasts would feel without fabric under his palm, Narcissa guides his hand away and pulls it up, towards her mouth.

She smirks before pulling two of James’ fingers into her mouth, her hot wet tongue dancing around them.

“Oh fuck…” groans James, as he watches her lips close around his fingers.

The feeling is pretty amazing and James is beyond hard right now. Her glacial eyes are on him and James never knew someone could look so cold with so much heat in their eyes. It’s fascinating and James can’t think, can’t look away. He aches to touch her more, to smash her against the wall and grind his cock against her but he doesn’t move. 

This is too delicate, this is her dance and James feels like one wrong step would end it entirely.

Instead, he keeps very quiet and watches her, a low humming sound escaping her throat as she sucks his fingers greedily. His eyes briefly close and James reflects he’s never been so turned on in his life. He can’t help but imagine how her mouth would feel on his cock instead of his fingers. His other hand flexes around his robes, by the side of his body, eager to find something to grab.

Narcissa pulls his fingers out with a soft pop and James sees the spit over them, making them glisten in the semi darkness. She doesn’t break eye contact as she slowly guides his hand down, until she puts it on her thigh, directing it up very slowly, under smooth fabric, onto warm skin.

James’ breath catches in his throat as his instincts take over and he helps move forward under elastic and silk, feeling soft hair under his fingers. He looks into her eyes, feeling fire ignite in him, knowing he won’t be able to stay docile for much longer.

Narcissa seems to sense it too.

“Go on, Potter. Touch me,” she breathes, letting go of his hand. 

James licks his lips as he moves his hand a bit further. Short soft hairs give way to warm and moist smooth skin. He gently rubs the place where her lower lips meet a few times before peeling them apart, feeling Narcissa’s burning, wet center.

Fucking hell. Narcissa Black’s pussy. This might be a dream come true. A fantasy brought to life. Or maybe he’s just dreaming of her again.

James finds her entrance and slips one finger inside, not too far, just enough to feel the tightness, the heat and wetness there. He watches as her eyes close and withdraws his finger, bringing the wetness towards her clit. His first touch there makes her lips part slightly, her eyes are still closed and James’ eyes feast on her face.

The part of him that wonders at what point he’ll wake up or get hexed badly shuts down as he starts to slowly circle Narcissa’s clit with two fingers. A soft moan escapes her throat then and James feels his painfully hard cock twitch, making him groan. Her eyes snap open and she smirks.

“Touch me more, Potter,” she orders.

James doesn’t need to be asked twice, his other hand goes up to fondle with her breasts before sliding under her robes, under her silky bra until he feels warm skin under his palm. Her breasts are quite small in his hand but they feel perfect all the same and James watches her face as he rolls a nipple between two fingers.

He doesn’t stop his motions inside her knickers and with the combined efforts of both of his hands, Narcissa smirk slowly fades to give place to a much more natural expression, one of pleasure and lust.

“Narcissa…” whispers James, “you’re gorgeous...”

James feels her nipple harden under his fingers and he groans, his other hand moving a bit faster, gathering more wetness from her entrance before sliding back to her clit again. She moans, deep and clear this time and James feels elated. That this creature would allow him to bring her pleasure, to watch the unguarded expression on her face is almost as arousing as the feeling of her flesh under his fingers. Soon, she’s slowly rocking against his hands, her pleasure driving her, and James finds his hips moving in rhythm with his fingers, eager for some friction.

James hasn’t gone all the way with any girls yet but he’s touched enough of them down there to know what he is doing and right now he’s thankful for his experience because Narcissa doesn’t hold back, she clearly knows her body and shows nothing of the shyness girls James’ age usually show. 

It’s mesmerizing to watch and so fucking sexy. James figures Narcissa is much more experienced than he is, but right now it doesn’t seem to matter, for she’s enjoying his touch and not afraid to show it with moans.

“Faster, Potter, faster!” she demands, rocking against his fingers.

James obeys, feeling completely utterly fascinated by her blatant display of pleasure. One of her hands grabs his collar as she holds on to him, her legs weakening. Her other hand starts exploring his body, slithering over the hard plane of his chest and downwards. James’ hips rise of their own accord, dying to get his erection closer to her hand. It stays just out of range though and James hears his own faint whimper. Narcissa’s eyes find his and he sees the pride and amusement in them.

Feeling very much like the proud animal he is, James pushes two fingers into her harshly and rejoices in her small cry. His thumb takes over circling her clit as his two fingers hook inside her and make a slow motion in and out. 

“Oh!” she gasps, “Oh, Potter! Yes!”

Her small hand closes around James’ cock, over his trousers, in such a firm and sudden grip that he moans deep and loud. He rocks into her hand and understands it’s his reward for bringing her pleasure.

“More… just a bit more…” she moans, and James feels her muscles squeeze his fingers. 

“Fuck, yes… you’re so fucking beautiful…” he groans. 

He gives everything he has then, eager to watch her come, feeling like this madness must be a dream and yet it feels so fucking real and he’s so aroused that he might come with her.

“Salazar! Yes! There! Oh…” 

Her muscles tighten hard around his fingers and then James feels it, her release, the spasms around his fingers, the loud gasps and moans escaping her. Her eyebrows fly up in ecstasy, her eyes close and her lips part, letting out warm puffs of air and James reckons he’s never seen a girl climaxing so beautifully before.

She’s holding herself to him during all of it, her fingers gripping his shoulder and thigh almost painfully and James doesn’t stop his movements until she gently pulls away. Panting, she looks straight at him. There is something different in her eyes but before James can try and analyze it, a smirk is back on her face.

“Not bad Potter, not bad at all,” she says breathlessly. James tries not to look smug.

She grabs his hand again, the one still in her knickers and pulls it away from her body, directing it instead towards his face. 

James glances at his fingers, they’re glistening with Narcissa’s juices. He can smell her arousal on them and he doesn’t hesitate before parting his lips and allowing her to push his fingers into his mouth. The taste is incredibly intimate, raw in nature and a bit salty. James doesn’t break eye contact and Narcissa watches him lick his fingers clean with a satisfied smirk on her face. 

After, he feels too dazed to say anything and instinctively reverts to his most famous and successful weapon, his patented lopsided grin. Narcissa takes a step back and James is suddenly more aware than ever of how hard he is, he can tell she knows this too when her smile turns predatory.

“Show me. Show me how hard you are,” she demands. 

James’ eyes shoot up to her face, hesitating. He’d rather go back to his dorms and take care of his issue than risk being hexed in the cock. But James Potter always enjoys a good dash of danger in his life and he’s almost sure she’s not going to hex him anymore. He’s just made her come hard, for Merlin’s sake. He can’t see any malice in her eyes, or at least not more than her usual snobbish face shows. 

He parts his robes and lowers his trousers and underwear under his hips. His cock springs free, bouncing lightly before standing proud in front of him, a pearl of transparent liquid visible at the tip.

Narcissa’s eyes drop to his cock, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

For a mad second, he wonders if she’s going to torture him, tease him, humiliate him and leave him hard and leaking right there. It wouldn’t be a total failure though, James is already fucking proud and dizzy at the idea that he’s just made Narcissa Black come.

She looks at his cock for so long that James starts feeling a bit self conscious. He hasn’t been quite so naked with many girls yet and none of them actually stared at his cock like Narcissa is right now. She cocks her head to the side, her eyes finally going back to his and takes a step closer.

James’ breathing quickens, he’s not sure what’s going to happen now but he’s torn between feelings. He wants more from her, obviously he wants relief, but he’s also a bit intimidated. He has no idea what Narcissa’s intentions are but he’s not sure he’d be able to say no to anything she’s offering. Maybe he’s going ahead of himself with these thoughts, maybe she won’t do anything at all and just mock him for hoping, naked and hard in front of her. 

Narcissa comes another step closer, they are almost touching now and James’ blood pumps even faster. Her fingers part his robes to the side and she starts unbuttoning his shirt. James watches her silently, looking at her lips, his lingering dislike for her person almost entirely forgotten.

She was meant to remain a fantasy but she’s right here, in flesh and bones, undressing him.

When his shirt is fully open and parted to the side, her fingers trace the side of his jaw, barely brushing his skin and James shivers.

“You are a fine specimen, Potter,” she says.

James’ chest fills in pride at her words, feeling very much like the noble stag he is. Her fingers keep brushing his skin, going down, from his collarbone to his chest, along his toned abs and down in the trail of dark hair under his navel.

James stops breathing, waiting.

And then, Narcissa leans towards him, her face so close that he could count the specks of deep blue in her eyes. Her tongue traces his lips and James parts them, automatically moving to kiss her. She stops him, one finger pressed to his lips as she pulls away.

“No, Potter,” she pouts, “No kissing me.”

James lets out a slightly frustrated sigh, unsure what to do. She’s clearly the one in charge but he aches for her to touch him. His cock is so hard it’s painful and his hand automatically wraps around it. He moans as his eyes close and relief surges through him.

He starts stroking himself slowly, soft groans escaping his throat, the idea of Narcissa watching him making it even more arousing. He wants to wank hard and fast but some part of him still hopes, madly perhaps, that Narcissa will get him off herself.

“Do you know whose statue we are currently behind?” she slowly asks, watching him intently.

James’ eyes snap open, his hand stopping his motion. What?

“Uhm…” he has a hard time thinking at all.

“Armand Malfoy,” she says, her voice clear, “A powerful wizard who founded the Malfoy estate in Britain at a time muggles were burning any wizards or witches they met.”

James has no idea why she is telling him this but his brains shut down completely when Narcissa’s hand closes around his cock. He gasps, his hips automatically moving forward into her touch.

“Of course this was a very long time ago,” she goes on, her hand making the most incredible motion over his cock, “but Armand Malfoy made the line go on, in purity and tradition. Do you like tradition, Potter?”

James watches her face, entranced. When he doesn’t answer, Narcissa smirks.

“You are a pureblood, Potter. You must know about tradition.”

She accompanies her words with a stronger grip on his cock, her thumb grazing his tip and James knows he’s close.

“Oh Merlin... Fuck!” he hisses.

Narcissa’s hand suddenly lets go and James whimpers, looking at her with unguarded desperation. Would it have killed her to finish him?

“I’m a respectable woman, James Potter,” she smirks, mocking him.

James glares at her and is about to pull up his underwear to cover himself but before he can, Narcissa hand is cupping his balls and James feels trapped.

Serves him right, he knew all along it wouldn’t end well for him. He’d liked to avoid any intimate damages though, he’d rather not watch Madam Pomfrey’s reaction if he gets to the hospital wing for a missing cock or something equally terrifying.

But Narcissa is literally holding him by the balls right now.

James doesn’t break eye contact with her, trying to convey all his legendary bravery into one single look. She’s got the upper hand but he won’t admit to her that her intimidation is working.

“You are a virgin, aren’t you Potter?” she asks, smirking.

James’ smile fades and blood grows in his cheeks. Here comes the humiliation. He doesn’t consider his inexperience a shameful thing. It’s more of a choice than from a lack of opportunity. But it’s not something he wants to discuss with her.

“Yes,” he confesses.

Narcissa smiles.

“So am I. I’m engaged, I’m sure you know that, my dear cousin must have told you.”

James nods lightly and before he can find words to try and reason with her to let him walk out of this with every bit attached to his body, her hand closes on his cock again, stroking him in a way that tears another moan from him.

Just when he thinks he might finally lose it and come, Narcissa lets go again, biting her lip in amusement at his faint whimper. James is utterly lost. He can’t find any logic in what she’s doing, except driving him completely crazy before humiliating him some more. He shouldn’t love that, he shouldn’t be enjoying it so much.

“Are you- are you going to make me come or just torture me?” he asks, biting his lower lip.

Narcissa smirks, a small chuckle escaping her mouth.

“Who says I can’t do both?” she breathes in his ear.

James opens his mouth and closes it again. He can’t find any words. Not even his wildest dreams of her ever conjured this kind of dirty promise. It’s beyond anything he’s ever experienced with any other girl. He’s beyond turned on and the illicitness of it all excites his inner marauder wildly.

“Fuck, witch...” he hisses through his teeth as her fingernails trail lightly over his cock.

“I could make you beg on your knees…” she whispers.

James has to agree with her, if she keeps torturing him, he’ll forget all about his pride and just go along with it. He’s feeling so out of character that it’s unsettling. He never suspected a woman could truly make him surrender like that.

Narcissa gives two solid pumps to his cock before letting go again and James hisses.

“Fuck… you’re killing me.”

Narcissa looks very satisfied, knowing that her power as a woman is her true weapon right now. She glances at his cock again, a small smirk on her face before bending to whisper in his ear:

“Would you like to fuck me hard and fast?” 

James’ eyes widen dramatically even as her hand closes around his cock again.

“I thought you were- you’re- aren’t you a virgin?” he stutters, too focused on the pleasure her hand is bringing him.

Narcissa chuckles darkly.

“Yes. As I’ve said, I’m very attached to tradition. A bride must be a virgin for her husband,” she says huskily, looking nothing like the virginal bride she claims to be.

James doesn’t give a shit about this kind of tradition but he can understand it might be a survival issue for pureblood women who wish to marry “well”.

“So, would you like to fuck me, Potter?” she asks again, her emphasis on the word “fuck” making James weak in the knees.

“I… I mean- how could we- if…”

James feels stupid. Here he is, sixteen, being given an exquisite handjob by an older and gorgeous witch who definitely knows what she’s doing and he can’t even form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

There’s another thing in his mind, it’s a bit far away but somehow it’s still there.

James has never actually had sex with anyone before and he’s not sure he wants it to happen this way, behind Malfoy’s statue with a woman who deeply despises him. In his mind he’d always pictured it being with a beautiful and deeply in love redhead…

But his body and his mind don’t want the same thing. Before he can try for another answer, not knowing exactly what will get out of his lips, Narcissa leans towards him and whispers in his ear:

“There are other ways to do this, Potter. Ways that won’t get me in trouble…”

James eyes widen again, he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

Her robes fall, pooling at her feet and James has never felt so lost and torn and aroused before. This shouldn’t be happening at all, but it is happening and James can’t think anymore. Her shirt is hanging halfway open, the swell of her breast visible. Her skirt is still a bit hunched up over her thighs. She looks fucking hot. He wants her. He really wants her, in a very primal way. He wants to fuck her, hard, yank her perfect hair and fill her with his come.

Narcissa must notice the change in him for another smirk grows on her face.

She grabs her wand and waves it silently, the action doing nothing noticeable except sending a visible shiver up her spine.

“Go on then, Potter. I swear you’ll love it” she says, sliding against his body, her back to him.

James feels utterly lost in his own want, madness shutting down his brain. One of his hands automatically reaches out around her body to touch her breast while the other slithers under her skirt, from behind.

“I took care of preparations. I want you to fuck me. Now!” she moans grinding her bare arse against his cock.

James grunts, he’s beyond any ability to talk or think. All that remains is pure need. Finding her rear entrance with his fingers, he senses wetness there and slips one finger inside. Narcissa moans at the intrusion, her back arching against him.

It’s so fucking tight and hot that James lets out another groan as he lowers them both to the floor. Narcissa positions herself on her hands and knees, opening her legs wide. Her blond hair spreads all over her back, her arse and lower lips are in full display and James loses his mind entirely. 

Not wasting another second, he aligns his cock with her tight rear entrance and pushes forward harshly. Narcissa gasps and curses and James’ eyes roll back behind his eyelids. No handjob he’s ever received can compare with the feeling of being inside of her.

It’s so tight and warm and he’s spent so many nights fantasising about fucking her that he can’t hold back. He knows he should be gentle, anal sex is supposed to be painful but Narcissa is moaning and he doesn’t want to think about what he’s doing.

He really doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s losing his virginity to Narcissa Black’s arse.

He pulls away slightly and dives back in, groaning loudly at the vice like grip around cock and the mounting pressure in his balls. It won’t take long at all. Grabbing her hips, he starts to piston into her, only half listening to her moans and curses as she encourages him.

“Oh you feel big Potter! Yes! Fuck! Harder!”

It’s surreal and wrong and yet it feels so fucking good that with barely a dozen hard thrusts, James is coming loudly, buried to the hilt.

His deep moan echoes through the alcove and the only thing keeping him from falling backwards is his strong grip on Narcissa’s hips. James is panting hard as Narcissa moves away and his cock slips out of her, the sight and her little gasp reminding him exactly of what has just happened. 

“Are you okay?” he rasps, not sure how to feel.

Narcissa doesn’t answer, she gets up and straightens her clothes, bending to retrieve her robes and before James can do so much as regain a normal breathing, she’s fully clothed.

“Good boy,” she says, tracing his jaw with her index finger as James is still kneeling on the floor in front of her. “I bet my cousin wouldn’t be very happy with you, would he now?” she says nastily.

James feels all the blood drain from his face. He’s not considered Sirius at any point. He just had sex with a Black. He’s betrayed Sirius and mostly he’s betrayed his dreams about losing his virginity to Evans someday but that particular thought is too painful to consider at the moment.

James closes his eyes in pain.

“Don’t you fucking dare…” he grits through his teeth.

“Oh, I won’t need to. Your guilt will do it for me,” she sneers.

And with a last wink she’s gone, leaving James half naked and still panting on the floor.

It takes James over half an hour to join the common room, too lost in his thoughts and need to get a grip on his feelings. Sirius won’t be happy if he ever hears about that. It sucks. But what pains James the most is the idea of lovely Lily, the idea that his perfect Lily won’t really be his first… And just like that, James swears to himself that he’ll never date or shag anyone until Lily Evans either agrees to go out with him or actually (unlikely) marries someone else. 

He wants to forget what he’s just done, wants to punch himself for doing it, for letting his lust drive him tonight.

His friends are wide awake when he finally makes it back into the dormitory, Moony is lying on his bed, stuffing a chocolate frog in his mouth while Sirius is sitting on the floor, his back against Moony’s bed, thrumming his fingers in rhythm with the music playing on the radio. Peter is folding his clothes and telling some joke, making the other two chuckle.

“Prongs!” says Sirius enthusiastically when his eyes land on him.

“Everything alright with the round?” asks Remus, sitting upright.

“Yeah… no trouble, don’t worry Moony,” answers James, hearing his voice as if it wasn’t his own.

Sirius’ eyes narrow, his nostrils flaring, and before James can turn his back on him and try to work on his composure, Sirius is up and moving towards him.

“Something happened,” says Sirius simply.

“What? No, it was fine, I’m just tired is all.”

“Were you on a hot date?” asks Sirius, his smirk knowing.

“Wha- No. Rounds. I did prefect’s rounds,” says James, trying to hide the fact that his face is losing colour.

“Who do you think you’re fooling, mate? You reek of sex!” announces Sirius, sounding deeply amused and a bit curious.

Fucking canine sense of smell. 

James sighs, knowing there’s no way he’ll get away with this now. Placing a forced cocky grin on his face, he grabs fresh clothes, desperate for a shower. Sirius and Remus chuckle and share a knowing look.

“Did McKinnon corner you?” asks Remus, smirking.

“No… I mean. I- I just want a shower, I-” James stutters.

“Merlin fucking balls!” gasps Sirius, grabbing James by the shoulders and looking at him with wild eyes, “You look like a herd of hippogriffs just trampled you, you just got your cherry popped, didn’t you?”

When James doesn’t answer immediately, Peter makes a whooping sound and Remus lets out a short laugh. Sirius, on the other hand, is looking at him strangely.

“Why are you looking miserable, Prongs?” he asks, “were you shit at it or did you just realise you fancy men or something?”

Peter giggles and James feels the urge to punch him.

James’ silence is not working in his favour right now but for some reason he can’t find it in himself to lie, to say something, anything. The bed creaks as Remus gets up, eyes narrowed in worry.

“What happened, James?” he asks, concerned.

Moony’s voice breaks his last restraint and James drops the act entirely, letting himself fall onto his bed, shoulders hunched slightly.

“I just… it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it,” he says miserably.

Sirius snorts.

“Is this because of Evans? Because I don’t want to break your heart, Prongs but I hardly think she’ll care… No! Actually she might be thankful someday that you have some experience, eh!” says Sirius, winking at him.

James shrugs awkwardly.

“Okay, now you’re definitely scaring us Prongs, what the hell is going on?” asks Remus when James fails to react to Sirius’ reassurance.

“I just… can we not talk about this right now? I really need to think.”

There is a long silence and James can feel his friends exchanging worried looks over his shoulders.

“Who was it?”

The question is asked by Remus and James actually groans, hating himself. His fingers clench in his own hair as he tries to disappear on the spot.

“Was it so bad?” asks Peter lightly, still not grasping the severity of the moment.

“No. Fuck. No, it was… good. Too fucking good,” groans James, hearing the others snigger.

He can’t deny it was mind blowing even if completely unexpected.

“What’s the problem then?” asks Sirius.

“It was not… what… who I had in mind- I just…”

“Who was it?” asks Remus again, his tone getting an edge of authority that James knows only too well. It’s the one Moony uses when he won’t take bullshit.

James looks up, right into Sirius’ eyes and sighs.

“Promise you won’t hate me?” he asks, barely a whisper.

Sirius’ eyes narrow dangerously.

“There’s no one I like enough to be pissed at you for shagging, Prongs. So whatever this is, it’s bad. Who?” he demands.

James looks at his best friend, his eyes pleading.

“Narcissa…” he breathes.

James hears the soft groan coming from Remus, the loud gasp coming from Peter but it’s Sirius he keeps his eyes on. His best friend is completely silent. James swallows, his throat is so dry it hurts.

“Narcissa Black,” he repeats, feeling as if he owes Sirius to at least look at him in the eye.

Sirius’ face contorts and a wide range of emotions seem to pass through it. None of them are positive. He looks dangerous.

“You- you shagged my cousin?” he asks in a voice so low it sounds almost like a growl.

James nods, finally lowering his eyes to the floor.

There is a never ending silence and James braces himself for the rage he knows is about to come out of his best friend, his brother really. And Sirius does not disappoint.

“What the actual fuck Prongs? Are you out of your fucking mind?” roars Sirius.

“All these months moaning about Evans ignoring you, about how she’s the one for you and you go and fuck my fucking COUSIN? Are you out of your mind? Did she trick you into it? Did she rape you James? How the fuck did this happen?”

James lets out a low groan and takes his hand in his head, his fingers tearing at his own hair.

“I… fuck… I fucked up so bad…”

A silent tear slides along James’ cheek as he looks up to his friends.

“James, were you consenting?” asks Remus very seriously.

“I… Yes. I was.”

There is a long silence, Sirius’ eyes are dark and narrowed with hatred in them as he looks at his best friend. Remus looks lost for words and worried, his eyes traveling from James to Sirius and back again.

“You know I hate my whole damn family” hisses Sirius, “but Narcissa is fucking engaged, Prongs, ENGAGED! Do you know what will happen to her when Malfoy finds out she’s no longer a virgin? Pureblood fuckers don’t joke with that kind of thing. They’ll punish her, hard! She may be a bitch but she doesn’t deserve being tortured and have to strip naked and repent while they curse her ovaries to burn and die! She’ll have nothing left, no money, no name, no magic, NOTHING! BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT WILL HAPPEN, JAMES! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” yells Sirius, beside himself. 

James’ eyes widen. He had no idea and is feeling horrified. Sirius tends to keep his friends in the dark about the most fucked up traditions of pure blood supremacists. He’s suddenly very thankful Narcissa knew what she was doing because he clearly wasn’t. 

“They won’t” cuts James, looking up at Sirius.

“What?” says Sirius impatiently.

“She didn’t lose… We didn’t… not this way… she… she knew what she was doing,” he says, feeling his cheeks burn.

There is strangled gasp, followed by a long shocked silence.

“Fucking hell” sighs Sirius, eventually turning his back on James and pacing the room, “you… fuck! Prongs… I can’t believe you… you actually…” Sirius snorts, looking torn between his anger and the desperate need to laugh.

“You actually lost your virginity to my pureblood cousin’s arse?” he says, irony strong in his tones. “Do you know it’s tradition for pure blood wizards from fucked up families to lose their virginity this way? I bet your parents never taught about that. Well done Prongs! You acted like the perfect little pureblood! Narcissa must be proud, she deflowered a blood traitor the traditional way… Fuck. I could laugh if I wasn’t so pissed at you!” 

James’ lets out a loud puff of air, feeling like a stone dropped in his stomach. Narcissa played him. She knew exactly what she was doing and James fell right into her trap. He feels ashamed and disgusted with himself.

“Sirius,” says Remus in a soft voice, trying to temper his friend.

“However the fuck did that happen?” asks Sirius, ignoring Remus, “since when do you fancy my cousin? Since when do you go and fuck engaged women in the corridors? Actually where the fuck did you do it?” asks Sirius beside himself.

“Behind Malfoy’s statue…” answers James in a low voice.

There is another long silence and then James hears a breathy sound, a breathy laughter that soon turns into barks and undeniable hysterical laughter.

“Oh Prongs…” sighs Remus, “I can’t really tell if this is your greatest achievement or your worse fuck up… whatever it is, I hope it was worth it.”

Sirius is still laughing madly and Remus can’t properly hide his grin.

“Never a word to Evans,” says James, staring at his friend.

He knows Remus and Lily share secrets, he doesn’t want this one to end up in the open. He doesn’t give a shit about what people might think but Evans is out of bounds. Remus makes a zip motion over his lips and soon Sirius is falling backward on the bed next to James, in fits of hysterical laughter.

“I can’t be pissed at you… when you pull that kind of shit, mate…” laughs Sirius, “Malfoy’s statue…” he barks, rolling on the bed, “you’re brilliant, you are, Prongs!”

James can’t help but let a little nervous laugh escape his throat. He’s confident Sirius won’t hate him but he’s still a bit sore and unsure about how to feel. The only thing he knows for sure is that he will stay away from girls until Evans changes her mind about him. 

“If any of you ever fancy one of my cousins again,” says Sirius, barely able to speak, “please just come and ask me first next time!”

  
  



End file.
